Scion (16 page)

The 787 taxied to the waiting ladder and stopped
. The door opened and the soon-to-be president elect appeared at the top of the stairs. His perfect smile greeted the onlookers and was met by a resounding cheer followed by a chant, ‘BAKER! BAKER!’ Flashlights lit up the dull October morning as Dan Baker descended the steps and ignoring the Secret Service agents, walked towards the crowd and ‘pressed the flesh’ with his potential voters. Everybody was greeted with the same respect and interest and despite having heard the same thoughts and feelings countless times over, Dan smiled and accepted them as though they were the best ideas he had ever heard.

A crying baby was thrust into his arms and he held it like his own, looking into its face and smiling. The baby’s eyes lit up and the crying turned to laughter. A picture that would cover the front pages of every newspaper across America and beyond. Handing the now happy baby back with a smile, he bid his farewells and God Blesses to the crowd, thanking them from the bottom of his heart for their support before being interrupted by an aide with a cell phone.

“It’s Mr Freeman, he say
s it’s urgent!”

“OK,” replied
Dan, taking the phone.

A final wave was met by a cheer more normally heard by movie and rock stars.

As he stepped into the chopper, the rear doors closed, the Sikorsky S76D lifted off and the small flotilla of helicopters turned and dipping their noses sped off as one. Where his opponents used cars and an ageing airliner, Dan Baker travelled by helicopter and used his own personal airliner to fight his campaign. Money was an irrelevance and for every dollar spent by the democrats Dan spent five. His television ads ran almost non stop, covering every major channel during prime time shows. If somebody didn’t know Dan Baker was running for president, they had to be deaf, blind and living in isolation with no electricity. His brand recognition was second only to Coca-Cola.

As
Dan turned from the window and put the phone to his ear, the smile faded.

“What’s
up?” he asked.

Henry Freeman brought
Dan up to speed with the day’s events which, as expected, were not well received.

“D
o I need to remind you in simple words what’s at stake here?”

“No, I’m perfectly aware of what’s at stake
Dan.”

“Good, then take your finger out your a
ss and fucking kill these fuckers!” Dan snapped the phone off and threw it against the cabin wall.

Dan
Baker, the carefully constructed political façade, had disappeared revealing the real Dan Baker and unknown to all but very few, a twenty percent owner of Transcon and a ruthless son of a bitch  who, in four weeks, would win the presidential election and show his true colours. The ultra popular liberal republican was somewhat less liberal than he had portrayed. In fact, he was about as right wing as they came. 

Chapter 25

The helicopter swooped low over Buckingham Palace
. Kelly’s face was pressed firmly to the side of the glass as she strained to see as much as possible.

“Do
n’t you want to see?” asked Kelly, noting Scott’s lack of interest.

“Seen
it all before,” replied Scott nonchalantly.

“
What, you’ve seen this before?” she pointed to the Palace below.

“Yes.”

“Even the gardens?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t see how. You can’t see these from the ground. There’s a huge wall all around them.”

“I just have, OK
?”

“When?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?”

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you.”

Kelly
considered Scott’s answers and turning away from the window looked at him,

“Have you met the Queen?” she asked
, incredulous.

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you that
,” replied Scott breaking into a smile.

The helicopter swept over the front of the palace before swooping down the Mall, and across St. James Park before setting down on Horse Guards Parade, less than 500
meters from the palace. 

A car sat waiting for them as they exited the helicopter
. Scott, however, dismissed the car and walked through Horse Guards and out the other side of the building onto Whitehall. Ignoring Kelly’s continual objections, he crossed the street and led Kelly to the front door of the Ministry of Defence.

Kelly
stopped as she read the plaque by the door.

“Just who the fuck are you?” she asked becoming
increasingly frustrated at being kept in the dark.

“
Scott,” replied Scott laughing as he opened the door and stepped aside for Kelly to enter the building ahead of him.

“Thank you,” said
Kelly surprised by his gentlemanly manners. Her police colleagues usually barged in front of her and left the door to slam in her face. Equal opportunities in the police meant exactly that.

Scott
strode across the large reception area and was provided with an escort to take them to the Defence Minister immediately. A short trip in the elevator deposited them on the top floor and before Kelly knew what was happening, she had been left in the foyer while Scott entered the office.

“Good morning, Prime Minister
,” said Scott, walking towards and shaking the hand of one of the two gentlemen seated by a very grand and somewhat out of place fire-place.

“Good morning
Scott. This is George Cunningham who, as of Friday, is our new Defence Minister.”

George took
Scott’s hand and shook it although the quizzical look revealed the Prime Minister had not yet revealed who Scott was.

The Prime Minister, Adam
Smith, had been in power for over seven years and was still as popular as the day he had been elected, which in Britain was no mean feat. He was a personable and likeable man with razor sharp wit and intelligence and whose ancestry could be traced back to the famous economist of the same name.

Aft
er hearing of the second attack, the Prime Minister didn’t waste any time.

“
Any idea who’s trying to kill you?”

“Absolutely none
, Sir.”

George interrupted
. “I’m sorry but is there any chance of knowing what’s going on?”

Scott
looked at the Prime Minister to take the lead.

“George,
Scott here works for us and when I say us I quite literally mean you and me. Although he’s taking some time out to go to Uni.”

“What does he do
?”

“Hmm, how can I put it
…” the Prime Minister pondered his words. “He takes care of difficult situations.”

“Like what?”

“Well let’s say we get word of a bad egg, one that we know did something which is most definitely not in the interests of our country but we don’t have any jurisdiction or in fact hard evidence that we can take to court.”

George started to nod, beginning to understand what the Prime Minister was getting at
.

“Well
Scott here and a few others like him make these problems disappear.”

“I thought the SAS did that sort of thing?” asked a confused George.

“Bit too public,” replied the PM.

“So what unit are you attached to?” asked George looking at
Scott.

“
K Squad,” replied Scott.

“
And they’re attached to?”

“Nobody.”

“You’re not quite getting it George,” interrupted the PM, “K Squad is ultra secret. The only people who know it exists are Prime Ministers, Defence Ministers and members of the squad.”

“What about the Joint Intelligence Committee, surely they know?” asked George referring to the group that had complete oversight
of all of the UK’s intelligence community, ensuring that all of her majesty’s assets were being used in a co-ordinated effort in the defence of the nation.

“Nope, me and you
. That’s it. Oh and the Queen.”

“The Queen
?”

“It was her ancestors
who set up the squad.”

“How long ago?”

“Some time during the Empire, nobody’s entirely sure.”

George was becoming more and more bewildered at how a personal squad of assassins could be hidden for so long and why on earth they were still necessary.

“But why?”

“I explained that already,” replied the PM, becoming tired of the questioning.

Scott stepped in.

“Maybe I can
explain. I deal with the untouchables, the people who stand behind corrupt governments who stick two fingers up at the international community and say I’ll do what I want, you can’t get to me. I’m talking about terrorists, drug lords, arms dealers, human traffickers. The scum of the earth, basically, whose every breath means misery for others.”

George still wasn’t convinced
.

H
is morals were struggling to understand the justification for the ultimate penalty.

“But we abolished the death penalty
,” stated George turning to the PM.

“Yes but these people won’t ever see the inside of prison
. There’s no other way to protect our citizens. K Squad has many restrictions, one of which is that they cannot carry out operations within any of the sixteen countries where the Queen is the head of state. Otherwise the person could be tried and brought to justice.”

“
So who decides what they do?”

“Me and you but we must agree before a sanction, that’s what we call them, can be issued. The sanction is then issued and one of the
five members will be given the task.”

“
Five?” George was surprised at the low number of squad members.

“Yes, it’s a very tight outfit and
that’s one of the reasons that what has happened to Scott is so worrying. If somebody is targeting K Squad, one of our greatest secrets may have been exposed.”

The PM looked
at Scott.

“I don’t think so, no other squad member has been targeted as far as I am aware.
”

“But how do you recruit squad members, I mean where do you find them?” asked George

“Interesting question, let’s just say
Scott is rather unique but I’ll let him explain.” The PM nodded at Scott.

“
Squad members can be recruited from any sector of Her Majesty’s Services. I for example was a member of the Special Boat Service before being selected.”

“And that makes you unique?” asked George.

“I think the PM was referring to my background prior to joining the forces. I was an orphan and raised on a remote island in the South China Sea. The majority of K Squad members come from one of Her Majesty’s  Special Forces.”

“So you
’re not even British?”

“I believ
e my mother was. I have no idea whether my father was,” replied a slightly irritated Scott.

“Scott’s allegiance
, I can assure you, is in not in question. This young man has done more for this country than we could ever have hoped,” interrupted the PM.

“Sorry, I didn
’t mean it negatively, I was just surprised as to how somebody raised on a remote island came to be where he is now,” recovered George.

“It’s simple
. I wanted to see the world. I visited the main island of Borneo when I was sixteen and met Royal Marines stationed at the UK’s Jungle Warfare Training School in Brunei. I immediately wanted to join but two things stood in my way. I was only sixteen, you need to be seventeen for the Royal Marines and I had no papers to prove who I was.”

“So how did you get in
?”

“
Persistence I suppose. I followed them back to their barracks and discovered the base was run by the Gurkhas. I insisted on meeting with the CO of the base and told him I wasn’t going to move until they allowed me to join. Fortunately after a couple of days at the base gates, they humoured me and allowed me to join them in some exercises where I proved my worth and soon after, I was allowed to enlist in the Gurkhas where you could enlist at sixteen. From there, I joined the Marines, the SBS and was enlisted in the K Squad.”

“You were a Gurkha?” exclaimed George.

“Only for about eighteen months.”

“I’ve never heard anything like it, I didn’t think anyone but a Gurkha could join them other than officers of course.”

“I don’t believe they can,” replied the PM, “but then Scott here wasn’t your normal recruit. He missed out a fairly major part of his story. Didn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say major part
. I believe the PM is referring to some training I received from the islanders who raised me.”